


A Christmas Lesson from Minister Weasley

by ravenslight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coworkers-ish, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant, Romance, Teasing, christmas drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenslight/pseuds/ravenslight
Summary: Pansy isn’t a fan of Christmas, but sheisfond of Minister Percy Weasley
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37
Collections: Fairest's Secret Santa Drabble Exchange 2019





	A Christmas Lesson from Minister Weasley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsesha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsesha/gifts).



> Happy Christmas, PurebloodMuggle! Thank you so much for such a fun prompt; I loved getting to stretch my creative muscles with a pairing I haven't written before, and I really hope you enjoy this! May your holiday be merry, bright, and filled with time with your loved ones. Sending you love and light as we enter the new decade as well <3 Cheers!

Pansy Parkinson hated Christmas.

She also loathed the banality of romance, but especially the particular brand of ridiculous frivolity that the Weasley Christmas brought with it.

Mrs. Weasley always made towering trays of sweets, far more than any family needed, and the ridiculous amount of sugar it plied the littlest Weasley gremlins with made them bounce around the room as though their bums were on fire.

The only thing that made it even passably tolerable was Percy.

Percy Weasley, with his ridiculous horn-rimmed glasses and perfectly-pressed trousers, made the whole affair tolerable. 

And speak of the ginger-haired devil....

Warm arms slid around her midsection, an open mouth kiss pressed to the shell of her ear, tempered by a sharp nip. The bait and switch threw her, and her eyes fluttered shut against her will as he whispered in her ear. “Fourth family Christmas in a row, Parkinson. I thought you said you’d be long gone by now.” 

“Hmm.” She leaned back, relaxing into his grasp, shifting slightly to ghost her bum across the front of his trousers. “I come back for the pie; your mother is a divine cook.” 

Laughter rumbled through her, settling beneath her breastbone and dissolving some of her disdain for the holiday. No matter how accepting the Weasleys had become of her, she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d be cast out arse over tit. 

“And here I thought it was for me.” 

Percy’s voice held no real disappointment, so she turned, aiming a sharp smile up at him. She allowed her gaze to travel south, landing on the strip of exposed flesh peeking out from beneath the button up he’d paired with his sensible cream jumper. The flicker of her tongue wetting her lips was calculated, and a throaty chuckle met the flash of desire in his gaze. “I suppose there are some parts of you that I look forward to more than others.”

It was a bluff and both of them knew it, but it achieved her desired result; she flit away, head cocked prettily to the side as she demurely offered the Weasley matriarch her assistance.

Mrs. Weasley’s pleased, “Oh dear, please  _ do _ call me Molly,” still rang in her ears as she watched Percy adjust himself across the room. 

What Pansy  _ didn’t  _ hate about the holidays was that they provided ample opportunity to drive Percy wild. 

She always made sure to apply  _ just enough _ of a sticking charm that the majority of the deep red lipstick she chose would stay, though just a  _ tiny hint  _ of it always managed to rub off on the silverware she used.

When she assumed her seat on the other side of the table, she dipped low enough that Percy could peer down her very own gods-awful Weasley sweater, and her foot always managed to find its way free of her heel and up the long, lean expanse of his thigh.

It was worth it to watch him colour and loosen his collar with a gulp. 

But when she volunteered to hand wash the dishes and ushered Mrs. Weasley—because she would  _ always  _ be Mrs. Weasley no matter how much she insisted otherwise—up the stairs to get some much-deserved rest, Percy returned the favour in kind.

“Parkinson, were you teasing me?” 

His voice held that deep, authoritative baritone he used whenever she riled him up, and an anticipatory shiver worked its way down her spine. Affixing her coyest smile, she peered over her shoulder at him, sultry lashes fluttering. The way she looked at him from her knees. “And if I was?”

He stalked across the worn wooden floor, intent smouldering in his gaze. “If you were, I’d have to remedy that.” One hand clasped over the curve of her hip, and he turned her toward him, entrapping her in the cage of his arms. His other hand snaked up between them, sliding his thumb over her pouty bottom lip. “You do know how much I enjoy righting wrongs.”

Suds be damned, she coiled her arm over his shoulder, threading her fingers into the fine hairs at the base of his neck, tugging  _ just  _ enough to elicit an involuntary sigh from him. “Silly me,” she responded, her tongue flicking out to caress the digit as she arched into his grasp. “I should have learned from all those evenings in the office,  _ Minister _ . Perhaps you could teach me that lesson again?”

Percy needed no convincing; he swept her up in his arms, pressing hunger-fueled kisses to her lips as he directed them through the kitchen, across the sitting room, and into the Floo.

And he did teach her a lesson as the clock struck midnight and Christmas settled fully over them. A lesson against the wall… over his desk… in the bath...

Perhaps she didn’t hate Christmas after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> A bajillion thanks to Frumpologist for beta reading this. You're an absolute star!


End file.
